


The Storm is Rolling In

by incognitoinsomniac



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Camping, Cowboy Peter Jakes, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rain, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Wet Clothing, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitoinsomniac/pseuds/incognitoinsomniac
Summary: A storm catches Peter and Eddie out on the range. As Peter struggles with the complexities of tent pitching. Eddie struggles with the complexities of unrequited love.
Relationships: Peter Jakes/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Storm is Rolling In

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Minimal Editing! The fic was a beast to work out, but I've managed and it's technically still the 8th here in Texas! Woo! Prompted by Fluffy February Challenge, this is once again a snippet from a much larger idea I have of Peter in Wyoming. And I'm beginning to feel like a broken record. I hope you all enjoy! This is the last of Eddie for the challenge at least.
> 
> Song Title and fic vibe - These Arms of Mine by Perrin Lamb

Rain pummeled Peter's back through his soaked cotton shirt as he jammed a tent pole back into the mud. When he tried to pull the guy-line taught, the pole on the other side wiggled loose. He ran over to fix it, and the first pole fell over. He let out a cry of frustration toward the tempestuous heavens. But they took no notice of his plight as the rain continued to fall down in sheets.

Eddie did however. "Peter, stop messing with that, and get inside the tent!" he cried out to him through the cacophony of heavy rain on hard earth. While Peter had been struggling to put up his tent, Eddie had already set up his own as well as grabbed both of their saddlebags. And from the looks of it he'd already changed out of his drenched clothes into a dry set.

"No! I can do this!" he shouted back as he jammed a stake into the earth with all his strength and rage he possessed. He would not let a couple poles and some flimsy tarp get the best of him.

As he propped the tarp over his tentpole, he noticed watery mud had started to pool on top of his ground tarp. That was okay. He could clean it up. He moved around to the other pole. Each step was accented with a resounding slorp as he pulled his boots out of the muddy tracks he'd created around his tent.

"You'll catch a cold out there! Just get in the tent!" Eddie urged.

A gust of wind whipped around him knocking the whole tent back to the ground. Peter stood there for a moment as frustration and defeat washed over him. Even if he could set the thing up properly, the inside of his tent was wet. He'd be sleeping on mud at this rate. With a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he relented. "Fine."

Trudging over to Eddie's tent, the rain and wind buffeting him compounding his feelings of defeat. He crawled into the tent doing his best not to bring in too much mud with him. He carefully removed his muddy boots at the end of the tent. He neatly placed them to the side. The tent fly was keeping most of the rain from coming inside. It would have been dry if he wasn't dripping wet. How Eddie had managed it would remain a mystery to him.

"Come here."

Peter turned to see Eddie kneeling in the center of the tent with a dry towel.

"I'm good," he grumbled. He just wanted to pout at the edge of the tent.

Eddie waved him over. "Come on. You'll freeze. Get over here. I don't bite," he reassured him. With a little smirk he added, "Usually."

Peter moved over and let's Eddie pat him down with a towel. Once he was no longer dripping wet, Eddie focused his efforts on Peter's hair working the towel through patches at a time. His strong fingers massaged his scalp through the towel. Peter let a soft hum vibrated through his lips as he relaxed under Eddie's touch.

Eddie moved the towel out of his face and grinned, "See? Not so bad."

Peter looked up at him with a solemn frown, "I'm a mess. I can't even pitch a tent properly."

"You can pitch my tent any day," he winked and nudged Peter lightly.

He rolled his eyes at the blatant innuendo. "Shut up." But despite himself, a blush warmed his cheeks.

Peter watched Eddie closely as he continued to pat him dry with a towel. There was such care on his face. It really felt as if Eddie was always following behind him and cleaning up his messes. As quite possibly the worst ranch hand in the world, he didn't understand why Eddie was always so patient with him. So supportive. He felt mad to have crossed the world to do something he was so terrible at. There was Hope and their son of course. He would follow them to the ends of the earth. But her father had been insane to employ him at something he had zero experience with. And Eddie had tried his best to teach him. But it often felt like a losing battle.

He missed the nick. The casework. The thrill of closing a case and catching the bad guy. That was what he was good at. Watching over beeves and all the work that came with it. It was an ill fit. But Eddie was still by his side encouraging him for some reason. It all felt very undeserved. "Why do you put up with me?" he finally asked.

Eddie stopped toweling him off and looked down with another smirk. "Because you're very handsome." His dark brown eyes sparkled mischievously.

All Peter could do was frown. He was not in the mood to flirt or be doted on. "I'm serious," he grumbled.

Eddie shrugged. "Because I'm paid to."

Peter slumped over with a pitiful groan. A wet towel wacked him in the head with a soft thump throwing him off balance. He threw a hand out to catch himself but it slipped on the damp tarp and he tumbled backward onto the ground.

"That's what you want to hear, isn't it? So you can keep beating yourself up," Eddie chided him as he settled in beside him. He leaned over him with a hand on his cheek. "You are very handsome." He ran a warm thumb across his cheek. And Peter's heart fluttered inexplicably as Eddie continued, "You are my best friend's husband. And you're not so bad yourself. Possibly even a friend." 

His heart sank a bit. "Possibly a friend?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

Eddie moved away to search through Peter's bags, "Yeah well. You've made your mind clear."

He had but it still hurt to hear him say it. It had never been his intent to push him away completely. He still wanted to be his friend. "Eddie, I didn't mean-"he began but Eddie cut him off.

"Hope gave us her blessing. She wants you to explore this. I've seen how you look at me. And you know how this all started." He was haphazardly pulling items from his bag and putting them back with force, taking his feelings out on his belongings instead of him. "You want to. In there. I know." He jabbed a finger into Peter's chest with each sentence then turned back to rifling through his pack. "So what's the problem?"

"I'm married!" he bristled in defense.

Eddie turned on him, his face full of tempered rage. "You're making excuses!"

Peter started to protest but he caught his eyes. He could see tears starting to form. Eddie looked away quickly running the back of his hand across his face. A heavy weight kept Peter where he lay. Years and years of denying his feelings, of hating himself, tugged down on his heart. Parts of him still battered against him. He couldn't. He couldn't bring Eddie into that. He just couldn't.

The storm surged outside as the wind picked up and howled through the trees. Unsettled moos from the cattle carried across the wind to the tent. They were safe under some trees, but uneasy from the storm. The drone of fat raindrops against the tent fly settle Peter into deep contemplation.

The more he thought of all the reasons he couldn't, the more he felt Eddie was right. He was making excuses. What was stopping him? Fear. Of losing Hope. Of it all being a lie. That somehow all the praise and care Hope and Eddie and even Morse had shown him was somehow false. He was damaged goods. Ugly and tarnished. And one day they would all figure it out and turn on him. Shun him or use him or worse.

A small part of his brain kept overlaying the bastards from his childhood onto Eddie. The same had happened with Morse. And as much as he tried he couldn't completely separate the two. He knew they were different. But that fear still chilled him to his core.

The uneasy silence in the tent while the world raged on outside was suffocating. He didn't want Eddie mad at him. "I," he began but his voice died in his throat. Nothing seemed to suffice. "Eddie." He reached out but his hand stopped short and let it fall back to his side.

Eddie spoke without looking up, "You've still got that crap in your head." His tone had evened out, almost emotionless as he pulled dry clothes from the bottom of Peter's bags.

"I can't seem to shake it."

"A shitty childhood will do that."

Peter mumbled an apology.

"Don't," he snapped then stopped himself. Eddie started again with a softer tone, "Don't apologize. You need time. I shouldn't," he let out a shaky breath, "push you." He turned to look at him, tears still brimming his dark brown eyes. "Just know I'll always be here if you ever want me."

He leaned forward urgently. "I do want you. I just," he trailed off. The right words always seemed to disappear in his throat when he wanted to say them. He pulled away. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"I'm a veritable saint," he smiled softly. "Come on. You should change out of those wet clothes." He handed over the stack of clothes then retreated to the edge of the tent.

It was an act of contortionism to peel off his soaking wet clothes within the confines of a squashed triangle space. But he succeeded eventually and dried himself off as best he could with the damp towel. As he wriggled on a pair of pants over his dry briefs, he stopped to watch Eddie.

He was slumped over at the edge of the tent looking out at the rain. Peter wished for the hundredth time he wasn't so caught up in his own past. First Morse. Now Eddie. Why did he keep letting good men go? Well the answer was obvious. But Hope had also swept him off his feet at the perfect opportunity. He loved her more than he had loved anyone. And they had a beautiful baby boy. It felt weird to have feelings for someone else. Even if Hope had said he should explore this side of himself. He didn't want to jeopardize what he had with her. He wanted more than anything to believe her when she said she didn't mind. To trust Eddie. To finally be free of the guilt and shame his past shroud him in. To let himself be himself and heal. But those memories kept clawing at the back of his brain whispering that Eddie was just like them. He had to prove to himself that it wasn't true. He had to see it with his own eyes.

"Eddie," he called out, but his voice was dulled by hesitation. He doubted Eddie could even hear him over the rain battering against the tent.

But Eddie perked up slightly and replied, "Yeah?" he turned to look back at him, then quickly turned away in alarm. "Peter!" he cried out covering his eyes with his hand as a brilliant blush spread across his face.

A small chuckled bubbled up in Peter's throat. He knew he was a bit of a sight at the moment, laid across the tent with his legs sprawled out as he leaned on his elbows. Shirtless, pants unfastened barely pulled above his waist. But that was sort of the point. Maybe it was an unfair test. But Peter had to know. "Come here," he beckoned.

Eddie peaked out at him through his fingers. "Are you sure?" he asked warily.

"Yeah. Come here." He motioned him over with a tilt of his head. "I might bite," he added with a wink and a wry smile. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. But his mouth curled up ever so slightly as he admonished him, "You're a demon. Playing with my heart like this. It's really not fair." Eddie crawled across the tent to sit next to him. 

Peter chuckled through his teeth as he bit at his lip. 

"Alright. I'm here. What do you want?" He looked directly in his eyes. The flirtatious air he'd had earlier completely gone.

Peter knew it was his fault. But he missed it now. He threw the question back at him with a coy smirk, "What do you want?"

"Oh no," he laughed indignantly. "We're not gonna play this game. I'm not the one with a lifetime of baggage," he chided.

"Just answer the question," Peter urged. "What do you want to do to me?"

Eddie kept his eyes leveled with his for a long time. He could see his mind working silently trying to gauge his meaning. When Peter didn't falter, his gaze shifted to his lips first, then along his jawline, his bare shoulder. His eyes ran slowly across Peter's body, wandering over his curves. Peter watched as his face shifted from disgruntled compliance to slight intrigue then finally to worry. Eddie met his expectant stare with a frown. "Mostly I want to wrap you in the blanket. You were already pale and now you just look frozen or dead."

Peter needed to know more. "And then?" he croaked, throat taught with anxiety.

"Peter. What do you want to hear," he huffed in frustration.

"Please just humor me," he said with a reassuring hand on his arm.

Eddie gave it a little thought then quickly gave up with a loud groan running his hands down his face as he cried out, "I don't know! I don't know what you're ready for. I just want you. I-I- want to kiss you. And hold you. And you look just so cold. Please put on a shirt or a blanket. Or something!"

Peter laughed out loud as the tension eased from his body. He sat up pulling Eddie into a loose embrace. "I will," he grinned then pressed a firm kiss into Eddie's lips. Then another and another.

Eddie didn't immediately lean into the embrace even though he did return each kiss with his own. He reached awkwardly around Peter to his disheveled bag. His hand searched then unfurled a wool blanket through much difficulty. When it was large enough he wrapped the thing tightly around Peter pulling him in close. Then he finally melted into his embrace.

Their kiss deepened as the rain continued to fall. The storm continued on through the afternoon and into the night. But neither of them cared, for they had the safety of the tent and each other's arms.


End file.
